


putting on a brave face

by onefootonego (startingXI)



Series: [once upon] a different life [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen, a supergirl landing au, tw: child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 20:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16751341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startingXI/pseuds/onefootonego
Summary: maggie makes it about two dozen steps before she freezes. she can hear a rustling in the corn, the sort of face paced rustling that means something or someone is going to come barrelling out of the rows straight for her. maggie finds herself frozen in place as a shadow emerges from the corn.





	putting on a brave face

**Author's Note:**

> aka - **two. [ maggie 14 – kara 13 ] [february]**

maggie is standing in the kitchen of her parent's house. the tiles are cool underneath her feet, but her face is aflame and her eyes are wide with shock. nothing has been said as of yet, there is a deafening and intimidating silence spreading to every corner of the room. maggie’s heart is pounding against her ribs, her palms are sweaty and she’s trying to tear her gaze away from the card sitting on the kitchen table. the card she made, in secret, on a couple of nights ago. the card so carefully written and placed so daringly into elizas locker. the card maggie never expected to be staring back up at her in this moment now. 

“mija,” her mother is saying as if soft words can placate the coming storm “mija tell us this is not true.” 

maggie doesn’t even know how her parents found out. of course, she can come up with reasons. she can imagine eliza opening her locker and the card falling to her feet. she can imagine eliza picking it up with a pounding heart, only for her stomach to twist uncomfortably when the name signed at the bottom is 

_maggie_

and not michael or matthew or any of the other boys from their grade. 

whatever may or may not have happened next maggie does not have time to contemplate, for the tornado of a man she calls her father has touched down. 

“you are,” he starts and there is a measure of control in his words that scare maggie beyond anything she has witnessed thus far “ you are impossible.” he spits the words gesturing to the card “what were you thinking? did you even think at all?” 

there is nothing maggie can say that will appease him and she knows this. she knows her father is passed the point of reason, his eyes are fire and his fists are clenched. he is breathing in deep heaving breaths and maggie feels small, she feels tiny and powerless backing up and backing away from the man who’s supposed to love and protect her. 

“mija,” her mother says, voice soft and curling into the space between maggie and her father “mija it was a mistake wasn’t it.” 

she could say yes. 

maggie thinks about saying yes and pretend that the truth of herself is a lie. 

maggie considers the lie, but the singular word she speaks is one that will change her life forever “no.” she says, soft and small and scared “no,” she presses on “it wasn’t a mistake.” 

perhaps speaking that truth was, for maggie’s mothers' eyes go wide and she shirks further back into the corner. the space between maggie and her father disappears as he storms forward. maggie feels the stinging fire spread across her cheek before she realises the contact is coming. the blow sends her stumbling sideways, one hand coming up to her face, the other bracing against the wall. 

“do you have any idea,” her father is saying “of the consequences of your actions?” 

maggie, back pressed against the door frame, thinks she is beginning to get a better idea. she can taste blood in her mouth from a split lip and her hands are shaking. she tries to find a way to breathe, yet her rabbit heart is beating furiously and maggie is looking past the man who is still shouting at her. maggie is looking at her mother, pleading wordlessly for her mother to do 

something, anything. 

yet, 

yet maggie is dazed further by a second slap and she can hear her father calling her a disgrace and declaring her perverse notions as not of this house. maggie wonders if he will just keep yelling, he has a boundless anger and maggie, seeing his hand raise again, awakens. or rather, she slips into some sort of state of semi-awareness. maggie is taking stumbling steps backwards. she hears her fathers hand connect with the doorframe and she hears his howl of pain. she hears the roar of anger as he realises maggie is trying to escape. she darts through the house she once called home as quick as she can. 

the man behind her is a lion, preparing to catch his prey, and maggie is terrified and fearless all at the same time. she scrambles up the stairs at the same time she hears her mother shouting “bernard! bernard leave her!” 

he will not leave her. 

maggie slams her bedroom door shut as her father hits the landing. she is dragging her heavy wooden chair across the room with the intention of jamming it under the handle however she is not fast enough. she is not fast enough and the door is being slammed open. her father fills the frame and maggie freezes, her temporary confidence, gone. 

“you think you can hide from me?” he shouts and maggie quakes “explain this to me.” he says, holding the card in one hand “are you some kind of gay? like your cousin? some kind of sinner?” 

maggie cannot speak. 

“i asked you a question.” 

the eye of the storm settles and maggie can see her mother in the hallway behind. 

“you are sick.” her father says “you need help. we can cure you of this. there are very good treatments.” 

maggie knows what treatments are available. she knows that it means lying to herself and everyone around her over and over and over again. 

she won’t do it. 

“i’m not sick.” maggie defies softly “i’m not sick. i’m not a sinner.” 

her father does not speak at first. 

maggie’s hands are still gripping at the chair, prepared to use it in defence if she must. she waits as time passes, as her lungs scream for breath. she expects another blow, she expects more searing anger or a lecture. instead, all she gets is, 

“out of my house.” 

she lets out an exhale and her fathers fiery eyes fix upon her “i said, get out of my house. you are not my child. you are not my blood. you will not live here anymore.” 

“bernard,” maggies mother starts “where will she-“ 

her father turns around “that is none of our concern.” he says, voice ice and steel “she has made her choice.” he turns back to maggie “you have three minutes to gather your things and be outside. or i will throw you out.” 

*

maggie finds herself in the dark. 

she finds herself in the cold with all she owns in the world strapped onto her back. 

her breath clouds the air, her lungs are seizing from the chill. she finds herself jamming her hands into her coat pockets and trying to soldier on. she has started walking even without a destination in mind. the desire to get away, to flee the flee the place she once called home, had overwhelmed her. the last she remembers of her father is his voice as he counted down the seconds before he threw her out. the last she remembers of her mother is her wide, dark, tear-filled eyes, watching maggie leave. 

she walks on, heading out of town, heading away from the warmth of the all week, all night diner and towards the inky black of the thirty-six. the road leads to her aunts' house and beyond. her aunt who, maggie hopes against hope, will take her in, will shelter her. maggie doesn’t quite know what she’ll do if her aunt turns her away. 

not that maggie thinks she will, her cousin olivia has a girlfriend, lives in new york city and writes for some newspaper out there. all done with the love and support of her mom, maggie’s aunt maya. maggie can only hope her aunt will have it in her heart to do the same for her. 

the further into the darkness maggie gets, the more she starts to cry. she’s relieved no cars roll past this time of night, no one to stop her and ask why she’s battered and bleeding and crying. even so, maggie sticks to the shadows, she walks with one hand trailing along the cornstalks, ready to dip in, out of sight if danger threatens. her cry starts slow, tears escaping while she fights them back, but with nothing but the pressing silence around her, it gets harder and harder for maggie to keep them at bay. 

* 

by the time she first notices the glowing streak in the sky, maggie’s toes are numb and there are tears frozen to her face. it catches her attention and maggie glances up, watching for a moment as the streak highlights across the night sky. she wonders if it’s a plane or a satellite.

she walks on. 

she walks on, unsure of how long she’s been walking but oh so aware that the night is cold and she needs to press forward. she needs to get to warmth before it’s too late. 

the night is getting brighter and maggie knows it’s not the sun, so she looks up again. she looks up and her eyes go wide because the thing falling from the sky is getting bigger and bigger. she can discern _what_ it is, only that it seems to be coming straight for her. so maggie starts running, she starts running because death by space junk would be a perfect ending to this hellish night. yet her limbs are numb and uncooperative. the speed she once held is gone, the sensation now akin to running through waist-high sand. 

and this is how maggie knows she’s going to die. 

her shadow is illuminated on the dirt road from the impending craft and maggie’s chest is tight with fear. 

she’s running but it’s nowhere near fast enough. 

she’s trying to escape, trying to – 

there is a deafening crash, an explosion with a shockwave that sends maggie to the ground. she doesn’t feel the road bite into the palms of her hands, nor the way her left elbow jars as she impacts. all she can feel is the cold dirt through her jeans. maggie smells burn corn and as she pushes herself to her feet maggie can see the smoke rising. 

she knows trouble will be coming. trouble in the form of local law enforcement and god knows what other agencies with an interest in falling spacecraft. she can think of a local resident or two who may also have a vested interest in getting to this scene. 

maggie herself has no such interest. 

she starts walking forwards, thankful at least for the way the flaming spacecraft lit up the road ahead. 

her aunts' farm is not too far away. 

*

maggie makes it about two dozen steps before she freezes. she can hear a rustling in the corn, the sort of face paced rustling that means something or someone is going to come barrelling out of the rows straight for you. maggie finds herself frozen in place as a shadow emerges from the corn. 

a shadow, 

a, 

a person? 

maggie isn’t sure. 

she blinks rapidly a few times and figures out that it is, indeed, a person. a girl, maybe her age. she’s covered in ash and soot and she’s barefoot. maggie’s pulse skyrockets because she’s seen this movie. 

swallowing her fear, maggie tries to find words “uh,” she starts, then stops “did you-“ she looks over towards the smoking gash in the corn. 

the girl blinks at her. 

maggie takes a step forward. 

the girl takes a step backwards and her arms fold around her waist. maggie sees the girl swallow, sees her eyes widen and her spine tense. 

_oh_ , 

_oh_

oh, maggie recognises the fear that flashes in this strangers eyes. this, fear of the unknown. the fear of being labelled other. 

her brain is moving quickly through options 

option one: ~~run~~

she discounted this one for less obvious reasons. although mostly it came down to running involved running past this tiny, terrified looking little girl and maggie, no matter how terrified and tiny she may be, could not do that. 

option two: ~~ask if she’s lost~~

again, discounted, mostly because maggie thought that it would be a little stupid to ask this stranger if she’s lost. so she is left with the least best option three, 

“was that,” maggie starts, speaking slowly, keeping her hands at her side and staying still “was that thing yours?” she points at the smoke. 

the girl follows her gaze, then looks back to maggie but says nothing. 

“are you hurt?” maggie tries “in pain?” she points to the cut on her lip, on the blood dried on her chin and then points back at the stranger “bleeding?” 

still nothing. 

“i won’t hurt you.” maggie says and she can hear the distant wail of sirens cutting through the air “i won’t hurt you, but there are people who might.” 

the girl blinks, nothing showing that she understands anything maggie is saying. 

maggie, frustrated and scared, takes a slow breath. she exhales and then points at herself “maggie.” she pauses, repeats the action and the word “maggie.” she says, then points at the stranger “and you?” 

silence for a beat and then, 

then the girl points at herself “kara.” she says softly “kara.” she says again. 

“kara.” maggie exhales, relieved. 

the girl says something next, something in a language maggie has never heard before and is pretty sure may not be from earth. the girl seems to watch her, much the way maggie was staring at her, gauging a reaction. 

“i’m sorry.” maggie shakes her head “i don’t speak that language.” 

“language.” kara says as if rolling the word over her tongue for the first time. 

“kara,” maggie says quickly, the sirens are getting louder “kara, i will protect you. but please, come with me.” 

“protect.” the girl says “protect me?” 

maggie nods, holding out her hand “i will. but we have to hurry.” 

kara seems to pick up the urgency in maggie’s voice and nods, stepping forward and taking maggie’s hand. her hand is warm, unnaturally so. although maggie isn’t sure if her own hands are just frozen. nonetheless, it doesn’t matter because maggie starts running. she starts running and kara matches her stride for stride. while the pack bounces off maggie’s back uncomfortably, kara looks as if she’s exerting little to no effort. 

maggie doesn’t have time to think of the implications. 

instead, she allows herself to be pulled along until her feet aren’t even on the ground and fields are whizzing past them and – 

“stop, stop,” maggie says, jerking on kara’s hand “here.” 

they stop in a tumble over each other on the road. 

her aunt maya’s house. 

maggie stands shakily and helps kara to her feet “my aunt.” she says “my aunts' house.” 

kara reaches out with a finger, touching maggie’s swollen lip “hurt.” she says softly. 

maggie winces and nods “yeah,” she says “yeah, i’m hurt.” there’s a pause, a beat, and then “this way.” maggie says, taking kara’s hand and leading her towards the porch. 

the front door is opening before maggie and kara reach the top step. maggie is pulling kara behind her as her aunt steps out, dressing gown-clad and holding a shotgun “mija,” she says “it’s you.” a pause, then “your face, what happened?” a blink and then “who is-“ 

maggie swallows hard “can we come in?” she asks softly. 

“of course.” her aunt is saying at once “of course you can. maggie you’re nearly frozen.” 

the house is amazingly warm and maggie feels kara pressing against her back, shirking away from the barking dogs and aunt maya. maggie stands, hearing her aunt lock the door behind them, hearing her call out to shush the dog's reactions. it’s all, 

maggie feels tears sting her eyes. 

she takes a deep breath “tía,” she says softly “did you see that thing fall from the sky?” 

“and land in darren brookers corn field?” her aunt asks “i did.” 

maggie swallows hard “i think this girl, kara, i think she landed with it.” 

kara seemed to understand her name being said, and maggie feels her stiffen. 

“okay,” maya says “is she hurt?” 

maggie shakes her head “i don’t think so, but i don’t think she speaks english.” she turns, looking at kara with what she hopes is reassuring eyes “you,” she points at kara “hurt?” she points at the cut on her lip. 

kara blinks once and then shakes her head “not hurt.” there’s a pause and then “earth?” 

maggie nods “this is earth.” 

kara lets out some sort of relieved sigh. 

“let’s get her upstairs.” maya says “before the sheriff and everyone else comes knocking on my door.” 

maggie points upstairs and still holding kara’s hand, lead the way. 

“upstairs.” kara says quietly as if to herself. 

“yeah.” maggie says “bedroom.” she points to her cousin olivia’s room, and then as they approach the bed “bed.” 

maggie sits down, watching as kara does the same. 

“i can protect you.” maggie says quietly “but you have to stay upstairs. stay in the bedroom.” 

“why?” 

maggie blinks, not expecting kara to ask the question “people,” she says “people are going to come looking for you.” she says “people who won’t like that you’re not from earth.” 

kara swallows but says nothing. 

maggie takes a deep breath “being different isn’t a good thing.” she says “not to a lot of people on earth. but it’s okay, to my aunt. and to me.” 

“different.” kara says, but it’s neither a question nor a comment. 

“it’s not a bad thing to be different.” maggie says, then “here” she continues, pulling out some old pyjamas of olivia’s in pastel pinks and blues “you’ll be more comfortable.” 

kara takes the offered clothing and maggie turns, heading towards the door. 

“stay?” kara asks “maggie?” 

“i can stay.” maggie nods, keeping her back turned as she hears kara change “i can stay.” 

*

maggie isn’t sure if kara falls asleep or simply pretends long enough for maggie to leave the room. either way, maggie descends the stairs and walks into the kitchen where she can hear her aunt singing softly, can smell food being cooked in the oven. maggie feels her bruises now that the rest of her has warmed and she tugs at the sleeves of her shirt, hiding her hands as she lingers in the doorway. 

“mija,” maya says softly, voice full of concern “mija you look exhausted.”

she is, god she is. 

“kara’s asleep.,” maggie says, “i think.” 

maya nods “she needs rest.” 

“what’s going to happen to her?” maggie asks. 

“i’m not sure.” maya says “sit.” she gestures to a chair “but we will figure it out.” 

“if they find her, if they find out she’s-she’s different, they’ll take her away. they’ll hurt her.” 

maya nods “i know. we will find a way to protect her.” 

“how?” 

maya smiles reassuringly “there are ways to do such things.” she says “but they can be handled starting tomorrow.” 

maggie almost doesn’t want to ask what tonight is reserved for. 

as it turns out, she doesn’t have to ask. her aunt places a steaming bowl of soup in front of her with a spoon laid out on the table “you need dinner.” she says. 

maggie can’t think of eating 

“i’m not hungry,” she says quietly. 

“does it have to do with how you got those bruises?” 

maggie swallows hard and looks away. 

“you are safe here.” maya soothes “i will not let anyone hurt you. you can tell me what happened.” 

maggie feels the truth swelling in her chest and she knows it will be a matter of time before she bursts with the weight of it. she curls her hands around the wooden seat of the chair, closing her eyes and wishing this all to be some nightmare, that she can wake up and find herself in her own bed, in her own home. except – 

“maggie,” her aunt is saying “maggie breathe for me.” 

maggie lets out a trembling exhale “they found out.” she whispers “they found that i-“ she stumbles of the words escaping from her “i asked someone out. i – i asked a – a – i asked a girl out to the dance and she told her parents and they told mine and i didn’t think she would do that but she did and,” maggie takes a gasping breath “and i didn’t know what to do but they kept saying i was mistaken, that i was a sinner, that i was sick. but i’m not sick, i’m not sick. i’m not-“ she breaks. 

maggie breaks. she caves and she lets herself go into great gasping sobs. 

her aunts' arms are around her at once. maya is kneeling next to her niece and she is pulling maggie into her arms. she feels maggie’s shaking shoulders and hears the way she’s struggling to breathe. maggie is lost in her own grief, the delayed reaction to hours before is being pulled from her. she can’t stop her tears, she can’t stop her shaking and trembling. 

she doesn’t complain when her aunt scoops her up and brings her to the couch. all maggie does, once maya wraps her in a blanket and pulls her close, 

is cry harder. 

she cries and she cries and she keeps crying until she has nothing left. all the while her aunt is murmuring, her aunt is whispering all the words maggie wished she could have heard from her parents, 

things like, 

“you are not sick.” and “you are loved.” and “let it out mija, let it all out. you are safe here.” 

maggie doesn’t believe all of those things until years on, but she starts thinking there may be truth in them when maya cleans her cut lip with warm, damp rag and brings her the reheated bowl of soup. she believes it, even more, when she hears maya on the phone in blistering, furious spanish that maggie knows amounts to 

_”you will never lay a hand on her again. you will never come near her again. she is mine and i will protect her.”_

there were more words, more anger, but maggie, full and warm, was too exhausted to hear them. the fire is crackling and even though she aches, she feels safe. safer than she has in a long, long time. which is saying something, considering she has an alien who can run faster than the wind upstairs in her cousins' bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> y'all! the response to the first in this series as incredible! thank you so much to everyone who dropped a kudo or a comment.


End file.
